


A Goddess to Snakes

by ThunderCat



Series: Deities and Snakes [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-11 10:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15313545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderCat/pseuds/ThunderCat
Summary: A pretty boy who is lost in the dark, a coward who wants to do the right thing and a maniac with a new obsession. Three wizards are falling for the same witch, but for entirely different reasons.





	1. Hope

**Author's Note:**

> I am reviewing my fics which are already posted on ff.net and post them here. I came up with this 8 years ago. Nearly vintage :-) I hope you like it anyway.

"Move, pretty boy!"

Adrian wanted to snarl at the older wizard but knew better than that and followed him, although he seethed inwardly. He was always only the pretty and charming boy. Oh, and rich. Not to forget incredibly rich. That before all other things kept him in good terms with the Dark Lord.

Merlin, how he hated that hypocrite!

And he hated his father for his poor judgement and his final decision to join Voldemort’s ranks all those years ago. Now he was dead, killed by the _thing_ he called his master, and Adrian was obligated to take over his position.

One could not say no to the Dark Lord after all. Denial meant death and Adrian had no wish to die, least of all in the fashion that _Death Eaters_ used to kill traitors. So, he kept quiet and did what he had to do in order to survive. He loathed it with every fibre of his being. Sure, he was a Slytherin and a Pureblood, so he grew up with traditions and prejudices, and though he agreed with a lot of them, he was intelligent enough to know that change was not always a bad thing.

One had only to look around in the ranks of Voldemort’s followers to see where inbreeding and isolation had brought them. Purebloods they might be, but most of them were stupid, spineless individuals. Not to forget crazy, he thought, as a picture of a crackling Bellatrix LeStrange crossed his mind.

A bunch of narrow minded bigots who thought themselves superior to the rest of the Wizarding World for following a half blood, whose biggest fear was a seventeen-year-old boy.

Superior his ass!

Adrian did not wish to participate in the insane plans of a... a thing...who had more similarity to this pet than to a human male. One who thought it fun totorture muggle children to fight boredom and loved to watch his _Death Eaters_ rape defenceless women. He shuddered just thinking about it and was glad he had found ways to prevent himself from taking part in such bestial activities in the past. Hopefully he would not run out of ideas in the future.

The day his father took him to the Dark Lord to receive his Dark Mark, his mother wrenched the promise out of him to never take part in one of those orgies. As if he would ever willingly do such a thing. Maybe not even under force. He seriously doubted that he would get it up.

All he ever wanted was a loving family and to play Quidditch, not really ambitious for a Slytherin but doubtlessly better than being a slave to a noseless megalomaniac. Azkaban wasn't high on his top list either, but that was exactly where he would find himself in, in foreseeable future.

Potter would win the war! He could not say that he was a fan of the Gryffindor boy but what did it matter as long as he did his job and finished Voldemort off once for all? Most of the _Death Eaters_ were too afraid of their master to think about anything other than finding a way to put themselves into his good grace, to realise the real thread Potter meant for the Dark Lord.

A few years ago, Adrian would have scoffed at the mere thought of it. A skinny little boy defeating the most powerful and darkest wizard that ever walked upon this earth. But now...now he had seen the fear in Voldemort’s eyes. Witnessed the unreasonable commands he barked at his minions concerning the boy and realised that _he_ really feared Potter.

And one only had to fear something if there was a reason for it.

The more intelligent wizards like Malfoy and Snape and maybe Zabini and Nott saw it too he noticed. It was the benefit of being the silent, pretty boy. Nobody paid that much attention to him. He was doing what he was assigned to do without causing any drama. He supported the Dark Lord with money when he needed it and was intelligent enough to fake devotion for his _master_.

But being the pretty, rich boy who played professional Quidditch obviously led people to believe he was a brainless twit, something which he used to his advantage.

Truth was, he was pretty good in Charms and DADA and had a knack for Arithmancy but his most helpful skill was his talent for Occlumency. He was a lost case when it came to Legilimency but for one being so young he was excellent at hiding his thoughts. He had to thank his loving, cunning and purely Slytherin mother for looking ahead and forcing him into Occlumency lessons with his uncle, every time they spent their holidays in France with his mother's family. Not even his father had known about his hidden talent and he was glad about the fact that it was a secret to everyone but him and his mother, since her brother passed away a year ago.

Voldemort was known for slipping into the mind of others and it would not do Adrian any good to have his real thoughts discovered.

No, it would definitely be a death sentence and Adrian, like any other Slytherin, had a strong sense for survival. Death wasn't an option, but he also knew that he could not continue to live the way he currently was forced to do.

 _If you want to achieve a goal -plan and work for it!_ His mother's words lingered in his head.

Edward Pucey's device on the other hand had been: _"If you want something son, take it!"_ It had taken him some time to perceive his father's words as the rubbish they really were.

 _Want-Take-Have_. A lot of people he knew lived after that motto, but one only had to watch them long enough to see the trouble it caused them.

Adrian had always been a Mummy's boy. Audrey Pucey was the only person in his life to openly shower him with love and affection. She also had a sharp mind and was always able to see the whole picture. So, it was no wonder he tended to believe his mother more than his father, who never possessed enough brains to realise that every action forced a reaction.

His only problem so far with his mother's advice was that he had not been very successful with it. All of his plans had turned to dust, quicker than he could come up with something new. The last and so far best idea, was to pledge Dumbledore for help. He even would have worked as a spy for Potter's side if they had assured him the safety of his mother and a get out of Azkaban free card, should he survive in his role. But with Dumbledore's death all his secret hopes were buried six feet under.

These days he was finding himself deeper in the dark veil that surrounded him since the Dark Lord returned three years ago than ever before. Even Hogwarts, the home and safe place of his childhood, was infiltrated by now. The thought alone made him feel sick and for the first time since he graduated he was glad that he wasn't living there any longer.

It was bad enough that he was forced to go to the gatherings and accompany other _Death Eaters_ on their _pursuits_ and _raids_ without living with them.

Adrian was not sure if they really thought they would catch Potter just like that. He might not be the brightest mind out there but really, even Potter couldn't be that thick-headed.

This evening he was forced to roam through some stupid forest and as if that wasn't bad enough, the two wizards accompanying him had to be the LeStrange brothers. Like Bellatrix, the two were giving him the creeps and usually he did his best to avoid them. Obviously, he was not doing a very good job of it tonight.

"Watch out Pucey, wouldn't want such a pretty boy to get lost in the dark, now would we?" Rodolphus hissed and shared a look with his brother who chuckled darkly.

Like before Adrian bit his tongue, knowing that it would bring him nothing but trouble. Instead he gripped his wand tightly and cursed them inwardly. He might be good with a wand but he knew that he had no change against them both, nor separately either, if he was honest with himself.

After a moment of mutual silence and another shared glance between the LeStranges, both men parted into different directions while he remained where he was for a second longer. With a sigh he finally set into motion. Hopefully they would not find anyone, there were already enough faces to haunt his nightmares, and he did not need more.

Adrian had no idea how long it was before he heard the unmistakable noises of a duel -yelled curses and the faint flickering of red and green light- but based on his throbbing feet more time had passed than he liked. Without thinking he turned to his left and headed towards the source of the uproar. It took him a while to reach the point and he was glad to be in such a good shape from Quidditch, otherwise he would be gasping for air like a dying man.

What he saw though made him forget to breathe at all. There in the depth of the forest in the middle of the night was a witch and what a witch she was! The woman was firing curses and hexes at her opponent and tried to dodge or block the ones flying in her direction at the same time. The fact that Rodolphus wasn't yelling insults at her or mocked her over his attempts to bring her down made it clear that she was giving him a hard time. Not a thing that happened often, as far as he knew.

But if there was one witch out there Adrian had the confidence in to bring even the toughest _Death Eater_ down it was one Hermione Granger. She was not called the brightest witch of her age for nothing. Though he never was allowed to show it, due to his house, he had always admired her for her brilliant mind and more than once he caught himself staring jealously at Potter and Weasley.

He knew he was not the only Slytherin who begrudged both boys the close friendship they had with the curly haired witch. Most Slytherins couldn't really claim to come from a warm, loving family home nor had they friends that would risk their lives for each other. Hell, most Slytherins wouldn't even risk their neck for their so-called friends when it came to far less than life and death.

Hermione was not only brilliant, she was also loyal and kind-hearted, something all snakes loathed in themselves but craved to receive. Especially from a witch that was as gorgeous as the little Gryffindor these days. Gone was the bucktoothed, bushy haired girl - in her place was a real knock-out. The graceful way she moved and would twirl her wand only added to that picture let alone the way she seemed to glow and sparkle with magic. It was breath-taking.

To him she looked like a Goddess, a shining figure in the dark.

Adrian stared at her for a moment in awe before he was able to rip himself out of his stupor and take in the real danger of the situation. She was blocking a nasty slicing spell by yelling a spell that he had never heard of before but realised that it had to be some sort of reflector shield because the next second the red light bounced off her and hit the wizard who caused it directly in the chest.

He wasn't sure who was more stunned. The older wizard who sunk down to his knees, the wide-eyed witch or he himself. But he was definitely the first one to notice Rabastan LeStrange coming up from behind Hermione on her right side. Adrian couldn't tell if the dark wizard realised that his brother was dead -or would be in a few seconds- but one way or the other Adrian saw him lifting his arm to fulfil what so many Death Eaters were dreaming about: Killing Potter's brain.

Something inside him suddenly raged against the mere thought of letting someone harm the witch and it took over his control. Before he even realised what he was doing he had raised his wand and spoke the dreadful words. A flow of green light shot out of the wood and hit the wizard while he was just about to utter the forbidden words himself. Rabastan did not even have the time to look astonished before his body hit the ground, just in time with his brother.

The dull sound of the crashing bodies was enough to make them both wince, but this time Adrian was quicker to gather himself. Lowering his wand to show her that she had nothing to fear from him he took a deep breath.

_Plan, he needed a plan, one where she was safe._

"You have to leave!" She did not move an inch just stared at him. Under other circumstances he would have graced her with a bright smile and change his position to make sure she got a good look at him, but this was not the time nor the place for things like that.

"Hermione," the use of her given name surely got a reaction out of her but before she could say something he shook his head. "You have to leave now, you never know if there won't be others. I can't risk you being captured." His mind was already working on a plausible way to explain why he was still well and alive while two of the Dark Lord's best were lying dead on the damp forest ground.

"But...but you," At first he thought she would not recognise him as one of them but the stupid leather amour and black capes made it kind of difficult to oversee the fact. "What will you tell him? He will know that something is off and we both know what he does to those who betray him, Pucey."

Adrian was stunned, for the second time this evening and again it was because of the witch in front of him. She...she cared about him! Hermione Granger was worried what would happen to him! Nobody cared about him ever, apart from his mother. And… and she knew his name. Sure, he would have liked it more if she had used his given name but still.

Suddenly he smiled.

"Don't worry about me; you have already enough to fear for. Let me handle this," He told her with more self-assurance than he really felt. "Now go."

She hesitated for a moment but finally she nodded, let her eyes roam over the dead bodies to her side and finally apparated away. But not before she graced him with a smile. It was that smile that gave him the confidence that everything would turn out for the better. He had searched for a way to escape form the dark veil that held him prisoner and here, in the middle of the night, in a dark forest he had found it in the form of Hermione Granger.

_His Goddess._

His light in the dark and suddenly he no longer feared his future. With her in it, there was still hope. Even for him.

TBC


	2. Longing

Draco Malfoy was a spoilt brat, not even he himself could deny that. Since he was a child he had only to point a finger at something and it was his. Everything that could be bought with money at least. The things he longed for the most though, like love, affection and kindness could not be purchased with gallons.

Deep down his parents loved him. Draco knew that, but he could not remember a time in his life where they had been able to show him that differently as spoiling him with gifts. There had been times in the past where he would have given everything he possessed for a simple hug or approving word from his father.

These days those wishes were nothing more than a faint memory. Hope could not survive when the devil himself resided in your home. The darkness that was surrounding him and his family was getting thicker and thicker with each passing moment since that blasted day three years ago. Now every day was filled with fear, horror and despair and Draco had come to accept that it only would get worse. At least he had thought that, till _they_ were brought in and were pushed before him to identify them.

They had only been a shell of the people he once knew and went to school with. All of them were skinny pale and tired out. So, it wasn't that hard to understand why he told the others, that he was not sure. Of course, that was a lie. Even with Potter being hit by a _Stinging Jinx_ he recognised him. His face was swollen, shiny and pink, his dark hair longer than usual but still there were his eyes and the way he was holding himself.

No doubt Greyback had caught Harry Potter and the rest of the Golden Trio. He did not want to look at them. Hell, he did not even want to be in the same room as them and for a mere second, he was tempted to tell the others the truth. Just a confirming nod of his head and leave the room. But he couldn't. Not because of Potter, he still despised him as much as the day he declined his friendship, but because of Granger. Draco knew what the Death Eaters were capable of and he knew her destiny would be hard enough without them knowing who she really was. Just the mere thought of Greyback having his way with her made him feel sick.

"Look Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?" For a split second he made the mistake to look at her and hastily looked away, but it was too late. Too late not to see the fear in her dark eyes and he hated himself for turning his back on her instead of holding her gaze and showing her some kind of...compassion or hope. But hope was dead anyway. The only thing she would be able to see in his eyes was his own fear.

"I...maybe...yeah," he mumbled and hoped his father would quit asking him questions. Of course, he wasn't granted that wish.

They did not stop and even worse his aunt appeared. Merlin, he hated that insane witch almost as much as Voldemort himself and since her husband and brother-in-law had been killed a few days ago she was even more wayward than usual. Pucey was lucky to still linger under the living, though a few of the cuts Bellatrix cursed upon him would scar pretty badly.

Shuddering Draco tried his best to blank out the events around him. However, his shrieking aunt, who was stupefying Death Eater after Death Eater, wasn't making it easy.

"Draco, move this scum outside," his aunt finally screeched at him and Draco was not sure if he should be scared or relieved. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

His mother started to snap at her sister, but Draco didn't care. Bringing the men out meant he could flee, even if it was only for a few minutes. With a flick of his wand the bodies were gliding in the air before him, but it didn't matter how far he walked away from the prisoners, he still could see Hermione's brown orbs before his eyes.

They were the same eyes which were normally so full of thirst for knowledge and love for her friends. The sparkle of fear just didn't fit there. Once, a long time ago when he still thought her a filthy little Mudblood and inferior to him, he had wished to be the one that put that sparkle of fear in her eyes. He wanted to show her, to teach her how to treat her superiors.

But if he had learned one thing over the years it was that Hermione Granger was anything but inferior.

She had beaten him in every class, something that should have been impossible after all he had been taught. A Muggleborn was the brightest witch of their age, while most of the Purebloods around her weren't even intelligent enough to brew a simple calming potion. Blood meant nothing. It had taken him some time to accept that. It was a hard landing in reality that had probably started when she slapped him in third year.

In fourth year his doubts about his father's lectures deepened but it was not until their fifth year that he finally accepted the undeniable truth. By then the hate he once felt for the witch was long since gone, replaced by admiration. Not to forget a great part of jealously concerning Scarhead and even Weaselbee who were showered with love and friendship from the clever, little witch.

How was it that these two idiots were given freely what he longed for that badly for years, and weren't even thankful for it? How many times did she save their sorry asses? Pushed them through classes, lied for them, risked her life as if it meant nothing?

He would never take her affection for granted, would she ever grace him with it. Of course, that would never happen and worst of all was that it was his fault. He could not blame her, after the way he treated her for years he could not expect her to forgive him. Draco knew that he didn't deserve her forgiveness, but that knowledge did nothing to dampen the longing.

He felt it even stronger, since the Dark Lord had settled himself down in his home and every day seemed a little bit darker and scarier than day before. Draco felt nauseous and frightened, like a child that had lost his mother and couldn't help but feel disgusted with himself for being so weak.

"ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!" His aunt's shrill voice was followed by Hermione's screams, interrupting his thoughts and an ice-cold shudder run down his back as he stopped dead in his tracks. He was on his way back to the others, knowing he couldn't stay away forever even if he wanted to.

"We found it -we found it -PLEASE!"

The sound of Hermione's broken voice felt like a stab in his heart and Draco swallowed hard before he finally found the strength to move again. Towards the place where his aunt was torturing the one woman he ever felt something for. The very same he had left behind in the room with the monsters, when he hurried outside to do as Bellatrix asked, without even thinking about what the Death Eaters would do to her, because he was too fixed on his own misery.

"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts. Tell the truth, _tell the truth!_ "

The voice of his mother's insane sister was getting louder, as were Hermione's screams. His legs felt heavier with every step he made and he could not stop his fingers from shaking when he finally pushed the door open to the drawing room. He did not want to go in there, it was bad enough to hear it but he wasn't sure if he had enough energy left to stomach watching it.

Hermione's agonized scream hit him full force as soon as the door swung open and hadn't everybody been focused on the screaming Muggleborn witch in the chair, he was sure they would have seen the horror he felt, reflected on his face, before he managed to cover it up with his usual blanc expression.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"

Before his brain could realise what was going on, Bellatrix stabbed the knife into the flesh of her arm to underline her statement and his ears ringed again form the pained shrieks of the witch. He could barely bear to look at her and felt sick with himself for being so utterly frightened.

 _You are a coward, Draco,_ he scolded himself. _You pity yourself while she is the one who's being tortured. Get a grip!_

"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only met him tonight," Hermione sobbed and finally Draco found the strength to look at her."We've never been inside your vault...it isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

Draco was floored. She was lying! After everything she had gone through so far, she found the strength to lie to his aunt! He didn't know which part exactly was not the entire truth, and he didn't know why he was so sure about it, he just knew. She lied!

Merlin, he was nearly pissing his pants just being in the same room with his crazy aunt without her even looking at him and Hermione....the pain she was feeling had to be unbelievable and still she found it in her to fight back. She was remarkable.

Something in him awakened with that awareness. The coward in him, who claimed the biggest part of him wasn't happy with his sudden heroic thoughts but although it outnumbered the foreign notion he could do nothing to kill it in this moment.

"A copy?" Bellatrix screeched. "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily," his father piped up. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not." It was then that Draco realised, that fate had heard him and gave him one more chance to prove himself. This one time he could do the right thing. He could put the need of another before his own and maybe, just maybe he would survive it.

With one last glance in Hermione's direction he hurried out of the room, for the second time this evening. But other than before he was determined to find a way to rescue her. The question was how? How could he do that in mere seconds?

The lightning struck him when he saw one of their house-elves hurriedly pop out of the way as soon as it saw him. He had no idea if it would work but it was his only chance. It was her only chance. With a quick flick of his wand he made sure that he couldn't be heard in the drawing room.

"Dobby!" He hissed the name of his former house-elf. Other than his father he had never mistreated the elf so there was a chance he would answer his call.

"Dobby! I need your help!" Draco tried again, this time more desperate than before but no one answered. No faint pop no squeaky voice. "Dobby," he swallowed and eyed the door. It was his last try otherwise he would have to snatch the goblin and go back. "Dobby, Harry Potter needs you!" And as if he had spoken some magical spell, he heard a _pop._

The little creature eyed him critically, but he had no time to sooth him. In a rush he explained what was going on and what he had to do.

"You understand me?" he finally asked. "You have to do it quick."

The elf bobbed his oversized head hectically up and down. "Dobby can do that! Dobby will help Harry Potter!"

"Don't forget about Hermione! You have to save Hermione," he hissed urgently but didn't wait for Dobby to answer before he turned around and left. He had to hurry; he was already taking to long for his task.

Running down the hall into the cellar he tried to compose himself, but his nearly hysterical thoughts were twirling around one and the same line.

_I've done it, I've done it. I've become a traitor to the Dark Lord. I've betrayed my family...for her. Oh Merlin, I'm dead!_

As he finally reached the cell, the others were held prisoner in, his voice was shaking.

"Stand back, line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!" He didn't mean any of it but he had to make an impression. He tried not to look at them as he finally grasped the goblin and hurried back. At the sound of Hermione's sudden scream, he nearly stumbled and the grip he had on the goblin automatically tightened.

The few minutes in silence had let him to believe Bellatrix would wait for the goblin before she continued her questioning. Obviously, he had been wrong.

Hermione screamed so long and loud that Draco wasn't far away from calling out for that blasted house-elf again. But of course, he didn't. He had done everything in his power and now it was up to Dobby and the two idiots she called friends.

Pushing the goblin through the door he hoped that it would at least turn Bellatrix focus from Hermione to the creature at his side and buy them a little more time.

But the picture that greeted him as he finally stepped over the threshold knocked him out cold for a few moments. Hermione was lying on the floor, unconscious and bleeding out of several wounds. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and for a few terrible seconds he thought her to be dead. Finally, he had found his inner strength to do something brave -and then it was too late?

No, it couldn't be!

Somewhere in the distance he could hear his father calling him, but as no yell, or worse, followed it couldn't be that important. He saw Bellatrix towering over the goblin, who was holding Gryffindor's sword by now and was obviously being questioned about it, but Draco couldn't be sure. His whole attention was focused on the motionless witch on the floor.

"And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her." It was Bellatrix's words that ripped him out of his stupor. _Take her if you want her_ , which meant she wasn't dead. She was NOT dead!

But before he could even feel relief he heard a long stretched “Nooooooooooooooo!” from somewhere behind him. Weasley -the idiot -burst into the room and chaos broke loose which only settled down when his aunt's unmistakable voice echoed through the room.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!" She was pressing a silver knife at Hermione's throat, who was still unconscious, and Draco could feel his blood boil. Even more so as he heard Bellatrix’s next words.

"Drop your wands. Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Draco wanted to hit Weasley. No, he wanted to kill him! He risked his life and that of his family to give them a chance. A tiny little chance to rescue Hermione and themselves and what did carrot-head do? He blew it up! Shaking with rage Draco watched the idiots lower their wands and was barely able to collect them from them, when Bellatrix ordered him to do so.

"Now, Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight." Draco felt his blood run cold. No, he could not let that happen. Not Greyback! He knew what the filthy werewolf was capable of. He had been forced to watch and the memory alone was enough to make him nauseous.

A grinding noise from above interrupted his thoughts, which were hectically searching for another way to rescue her. Too late he noticed the crystal chandelier tremble and finally falling. Suddenly he was knocked to the floor and felt the unmistakable taste of blood in his mouth. There were screams around him. Voices bellowed orders and warnings. His mother's voice, Bellatrix's, Potter's and even that of the Weasel. But Draco didn't hear any of it. His whole focus was on the unconscious witch, who lay on the floor, not so far away from him. Tears covered her face and he could feel his fingers itching to wipe them away.

Would she smile at him, if she knew that he had at least tried to do? Would she look at him, like she looked at Potter and the Weasel, even if it was only for a mere second? Merlin, just a moment of affection wasn't too much asked for or was it?

A loud yelled screech ripped him out of his state and suddenly he realised what was going on. Next thing he knew was the Weasel ripping the wands out of his hands and picking Hermione up from the floor. Dobby was there too and suddenly Draco felt something he had not felt in quite some time: Hope.

There was a real chance for them to get her out of here. He had not failed her. The thought nearly had the power to put a smile on his face.

In the end it wasn't the mere thought that made him smile, even if it was barely more than a twitch of his lips, it was the sight of Ronald Weasley apparating out of the Manor with none other than Hermione Granger in his arms.

She was safe. And although Weasley was the one carrying her, he was the one who made it possible.

TBC


	3. Obsession

The first time he saw the Mudblood, she was nothing more than an insufferable swot in his eyes, a buck-toothed little know-it-all, who thought herself better than her superiors. More than once he wished he could remind her where her real place was but at the time he couldn't risk being exposed. His mission was too important to be jeopardized over some filthy Mudblood.

So, he played his role, quite extraordinary, as not even Snape became suspicious of him. Those fools only saw what they wanted and that worked fine with him. His plan would succeed, and in the end, the Dark Lord would walk upon this earth again, because of him. _H_ e would finally recognize him as what he was: his most faithful _Death Eater_.

He, Barty Crouch Jr., never lost faith in him. He never doubted that he would return and lead the Wizard World back to its long-lost glory. It would be filled once again with witches and wizards whose magic were pure and powerful, without the taint of those who muddled their bloodlines.

People like her.

But even then, at only fourteen years old she turned out to be extremely clever and surprisingly powerful considering her filthy parentage. Her influence on Potter and her assistance during the different tasks of the Triwizard Tournament had been a great help for his plans. The boy was not the brightest fellow out there and would never have managed to survive on his own, much less win the damn tournament.

Hermione Granger on the other hand, would have succeeded on her own had she taken part in the game. There wasn't one Pureblood out there that would be able to hold a candle to her, not even those from higher classes. Something that should be utterly impossible for all he knew. Over the time he spent teaching her and the others he caught himself more than once thinking about her extraordinary magical talent. She couldn't be a Mudblood. No, it would go against everything he knew to be true. There had to be another explanation the voices in his head whispered.

Maybe she was adopted? A witch out of a long line of squibs?

Yeah, that was the most likely explanation. No Mudblood could ever be that gifted with magic. That was downright impossible. Of course, there were charms which could confirm such suspicions or at least clear her parentage irrefutable. Something in him though, the part that feared he could be wrong, deterred him from going through with it.

But with things finally going towards the end of the tournament his thoughts were more and more consumed with _him._

How would _he_ look like? How would it feel to be in his presence again? And would he acknowledge his own role in his glorious return? It was him, not Lucius Malfoy or one of the LeStrange family that helped _him_ to fight death. It was him! He alone! And the Dark Lord knew how to reward his faithful followers.

_Yes, yes he knew!_

At last he thought that much.

Barty even stayed strong in his believe when the Aurors took him back to Azkaban. His plan had worked after all, he was back! Barty knew he only had to be a bit patient and Lord Voldemort would come for him. No prison walls could be thick enough to stand between the Dark Lord and his most faithful servant.

Days went by. Weeks were turning into months while he was waiting to be kissed and for the first time in nearly twenty years Barty Crouch Jr. started to doubt.

 _He_ was Lord Voldemort, what took him so long to rip down the walls that separated him from his most faithful servants? From him!

Barty understood that sometimes sacrifices where necessary but after all that he had done? After all the sacrifice he had already made?

And then when his doubts nearly merged into assurance it happened: the Dementors were gone and Barty knew that was his way of telling him that it wouldn't be long till the walls of Azkaban would fall. And fall they did, just not on the side he was hold captive.

Later he heard the guards mumbling the names of those who were freed. LeStrange, Mulciber, Rookwood and Dolohov were names he overheard the most. But he, his most faithful, remained where he was. Looked in a shabby, cold cell waiting for Lord Voldemort to realise his mistake and send someone to break him free.

No one came. Not even the Dementors to suck out his soul. He was forgotten by him. Maybe it was a mistake? Maybe he thought him to be dead? There was a voice in his head, well one of many, which told him that could not be true.

But he had spent his whole life fighting to maintain the purity of the Wizard World, ever since the Mudblood healer had failed to rescue his mother. A pure witch would have been able to confirm the right diagnosis right away.

_Yes, yes she would._

She would have diagnosed it right away and it would have been possible to therapy his mother. He wouldn't have been forced to watch her die every day a bit more. It was the filthy blood of the healer and her poor magical ability that caused the death of the one person who ever believed in him, the person who loved him enough to take his place to die in the end.

Voldemort had given him the chance to free the Wizard World of the filth that sullied their community and whose magical inability was the cause of so much misery. That was the reason he brought the Dark Lord back. _He_ would ensure the purity.

Barty could not allow himself to doubt him. It was all he had ever believed in. All he had, so he waited. Nearly six months after the others broke out they were back and it was then that he heard her name again.

Hermione Granger.

Dolohov was cursing her under his breath every chance he got. For six months he heard her name nearly every day. Of course, most of the time Antonin used terms like Mudblood or filthy whore but Barty knew who he was talking about and it kept him thinking about her.

And then nearly two years after the Aurors brought him back to Azkaban the walls shook again and this time nothing kept him from fleeing.

Free to finally join _him._

It was nothing like he had imagined it. Nothing like he remembered it to be.

He was not even entrusted with the simplest of assignments, overlooked as if he was nothing! As if he had not sacrificed everything for their goals. He even went so far and tortured other Purebloods, killed them for the greater good. Merlin he even killed his own father. The voices in his head convinced him to do it, reminded him of his mother. All he had done he did for her.

_Yes, yes you did._

The picture of his mother, the woman of his childhood not the haggard, sick person she had become- flickered through his mind and the beginning of a smile hushed over his lips. She had been so beautiful with her dark hair and ivory skin. Her eyes had always been kind and her lips would twitch into a smile as soon as she saw him. Rosalie Crouch had had the softest voice and was always surrounded by the smell of wildflowers.

But though he had no problems picturing her face in his mind after all this years, her smell and the sound of her voice were only faint memories in his mind. Dementors and time had ripped the memories away from him.

The real Rosalie Crouch had died years before she finally switched places with him. The last time he smelled the scent of wildflowers had been nearly twenty years ago.

That was...until now.

He was standing, _disillusioned_ , in the halls of Hogwarts, mere minutes away from the final battle that would decide over the future of the Wizard World. The one place he dreamed of to be, ever since he joined Voldemort’s ranks. It didn't contain the same excitement it had once held in his imagination. He was here today because he had nowhere else to be. He would shatter his own believes if he wouldn't participate in this battle.

But some of the voices in his head had started to doubt again.

_Fear...the Dark Lord fears the boy..._

_Fear is weakness...inferior!_

_He's forgotten you...you believed...you sacrificed...you stayed faithful!_

_No purity...he's not pure...no pure intentions._

Gripping his hair, he shook his head. "No, no, no doubts!" He was still shaking his head and trying to dampen the voices when the scent hit him.

Wildflowers!

His eyes snapped open and his whole being fastened on the source of the scent. Barty barely believed his eyes as he recognised her: Hermione Granger. She was past him before he could move a muscle but not before he could get another sniff of her scent. Had someone knocked a fist into his stomach he could not have been more shell shocked.

Memories of his mother flooded his mind and suddenly he was seventeen again, dancing with his beautiful mother on her birthday, mere days before that Mudblood healer ruined his life. Her scent and her bell like laughter surrounded him once again and he felt more at ease than in years.

Blinking he came back to reality and stared at the point where the witch had vanished, for a moment he just stared before suddenly all the voices in his head started screaming at once.

_Follow her!_

Wincing under the unexpected assault he grasped his head.

_Follow her. Hold her._

"No...No she's a Mudblood...filthy!" He rambled on, but his head was once again filled with memories of his childhood and Barty knew it was her who managed to bring them back to him. Surely there were more if he could just have another sniff.

_Yes, yes more...more._

And then he was running. Following behind her even if he had no idea where she disappeared to. It was only when he heard a quiet squeal of delight that he knew where to look.

"You did it...proud...only...Horcrux down!" He heard a voice he remembered belonging to the Weasley boy, the blood traitor.

He got nearer and nearer till he was standing in front of the bathroom door, he knew to be haunted by a ghost. Instead of stepping inside he waited, and it wasn't long before the door opened, and a redhead peeked outside. His wand hand was twitching but he stopped himself right in time, because the next moment Hermione's head appeared next to Weasley's.

"Looks clear."

The _Disillusionment_ charm was still hiding him, so none of them saw him as they slipped out of the room and away from him. This time he followed them, careful not to make a noise. While he was still thinking about why he did not just simply kill the blood traitor and snatch the girl, he heard a yell and as he rounded the next corner he saw Weasley landing on the floor. Hermione had already whipped out her wand and was fighting the _Death Eater_ who was responsible for her friend's state of unconsciousness.

She was glorious, he had to give her that. Quick and surprisingly agile. The _Death Eater_ , Travers for all he knew, had a hard time to stand up to her.

For a while Barty just enjoyed the show and found himself more and more magnetized by the graceful witch. The moment the second _Death Eater_ arrived though, he was forced into action. Or better the voices in his head forced him to act. Before he really knew what he was doing he had raised his wand, pointed it to his fellow _Death Eater_ and yelled the first nasty spell he could think of. He knew a lot of nasty spells, so it was no wonder the man sunk screaming to his knees before he started to spasm and just passed out to the side. Dead.

Travers was frozen on the spot, not out of shock but because of Hermione's genius. The spell was rare and complex but not safe enough.

_No, no, not safe enough._

Without hesitation he mumbled the two forbidden words and watched the green light hit Travers square in the chest. Now she was safe.

_Yes, yes safe._

The silence that filled the hallway was nerve wrecking. His eyes flickered to the point he knew the witch was standing only to find her starring directly at him. For a moment he thought the Disillusionment had vanished, but it wasn't the case. Nonetheless she seemed to know exactly where he was standing. Slowly he sneaked up on her till he was standing directly in front of her. She stiffened visibly a clear sign that she had noticed him.

"Who...who are you?" Her voice was a little bit shaky, but he could not really hold that against her. Instead of answering her question he leaned in and took a deep breath against her neck. The scent of wildflowers was so overpowering that he forgot everything else around him for a moment.

She was a Mudblood, she should not be able to smell like that. So pure...so...so much like his mother. Had she always smelled like this?

The last time he had been in the same room as her, it was in the body of Alastor Moody. The old fool might still possess a sharp mind but his nose certainly experienced one or two blows too much. Had he noticed her familiar scent before he could remember it?

Lulled in the intoxicating aroma the voices in his head remained silent. For the first time in longer than he could remember, it was just him in there. Just Barty and memories of the woman he missed so much.

Hesitant fingers touched the back of his head and he remembered who was standing in front of him. But he could not bring himself to spit out the hateful word as he enjoyed the soft touch of her fingers against his hair.

"Who are you?" she asked again and he finally leaned back, just enough to hover over her ear.

"Someone who likes your smell," he admitted to her. "They wanted to kill you, we...I couldn't let that happen...wildflower."

She eyed him, or better the spot where she believed him to be, wary and with a bit of fear as if she expected him to change his mind any second and attack her.

He had to give her some evidence for his sincerity, he wouldn't harm her. Not anymore. What would his mother think?

_No, never harm her.... couldn’t harm her._

_She is pure...pure...and powerful._

_Evidence...she needs evidence...then she would like him...dance with him...would be his wildflower..._

_Yes, yes she would._

"Be careful!" With that he pointed his wand at the blood traitor and revoked the spell that held him unconscious. "I'll watch over you, wildflower." And with that he stepped back and watched her help the Weasley boy up. She was still looking around, certainly in an attempt to find out if he was still there.

And he was...he would never be far away from her from now on.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Barty is batshit crazy but fun to write.


	4. Confusion

Hermione had known since her first year that being the friend of Harry Potter could be risky, not to mention life threatening. And since they were on the hunt for Horcruxes it was more dangerous than ever before. But the constant fear of being caught by Death Eaters was not the only thing which strained their time together. The pressure Harry felt himself under, his dreams, Ron's moody behaviour and her usual _nagging_ as they called it, had to clash one day.

She had not been surprised when it happened, though she couldn't deny being shocked when Ron simply left them. Shocked and angry, however it was nothing compared to the anger she felt when he came back and both boys acted like nothing had happened. For a fleeing moment she hated Ron with her whole heart. It was so typical for him, badmouthing everyone around him as if they meant nothing and then coming back and naturally expect to be forgiven.

It was late that evening, when she finally couldn't bear the chummy behaviour between Ron and Harry any longer and simply snatched her wand and to disappear deeper into the forest. It was stupid, she knew that, but she needed a few moments for herself.

The _Death Eate_ r seemed to have come out of nowhere, even though she knew he only caught her offhand because she was wallowing in self-pity. Within mere seconds she was captured in a duel of life and death, one that neither seemed to win at first. In the end it was pure luck that made her use the ancient reflecting charm she had found in the old Black library in the exact moment he sent the slicing charm at her. The red light bounced of the invisible shield and found its way back to its caster who was hit square in the chest before he knew what was going on.

Hermione could do nothing but stare at the wizard who looked at her with wide open eyes. It was dark, but the stars gave enough light to catch the look of astonishment and disbelief on his face. Her face surely must have mirrored the expression because she recognised who the man in front of her was, none other than Rodolphus LeStrange.

A second later she was caught offhand once again as she heard the death spell yelled out behind her. But it was not her body that fell to the ground, it was Rodolphus brother she hadn't seen coming near in her state of shock. The moment the bodies of the two brothers hit the ground, she couldn't help but wince and spin around.

There, standing only a few feet away from her was another _Death Eater_ whose hand was still aiming at the dead wizard. Dressed in black robes but without a mask she had free reign to stare at the handsome but shell-shocked boy before he managed to compose his self.

"You have to leave!"

She didn't move an inch just stared at him, unsure what to think, what to do. He had killed the _Death Eater_ and rescued her life.

"Hermione!"

He knew her name? Looking up at him, she wanted to ask why he had rescued her. She recognized him by now. One couldn't forget a man as handsome as him easily. Pucey. Adrian Pucey...he was a Pureblood. A Slytherin. A _Death Eater_. Why would he risk his life to rescue hers? But before she could open her mouth, he shook his head.

"You have to leave now, you never know if there won't be others. I can't risk you being captured."

"But...but you," finally staring at him in disbelieve. "What will you tell him? He will know that something is off and we both know what he does to those who betray him, Pucey." Her voice was getting shrill, she knew, but could do nothing against it. Even though she did not know him and he was someone she should have feared and fought, he had rescued her life and after what he was saying it seemed he was willing to cover up for her.

"Don't worry about me; you have already enough to fear for. Let me handle this," he told her and she thought she could see a smile on his face. "Now go."

And then, because she knew she couldn't do anything else she nodded and returned his smile before she apparated back to the others.

Hermione didn't tell them about her encounter. She told herself she just did not find the right occasion to do it but that was of course utterly rubbish. But although she knew it was risky to keep silent over the incident, something deep inside her told her she could trust Pucey. The knowledge that Harry and Ron would flip was just another reason to keep it a secret.

And with everything that happened over the next days they had bigger problems to face, other people to fear. People like Bellatrix LeStrange.

Never in her life had she known such penetrating fear and pain as during the time Bellatrix had questioned her. For a fleeting moment before the crazy witch arrived she had felt a flicker of hope when Draco refused to identify them. Hermione was not easily mucked around with, even when naked fear was eating her alive. She knew that he had recognized them or at last her. There was a blink of a moment when he looked her and she saw the horror she felt reflected in his eyes That was when she knew he was covering for them. She had no idea why he didn't come out with the truth. Should he not be gleeful to watch their death?

But the horror she had seen in his eyes told her otherwise. He was just as tired and sick of this whole war than she was. How dreadful must it be to live under the same roof as Voldemort? The boy in front of her was nothing like she remembered. He was even paler than usual, drained and surrounded by so much despair that it was nearly palpable.

But then Bellatrix arrived and soon she had no longer time to think about anything other than the lightening pain. She did not want to cry, she did not want to appear weak but the pain was to great as to not cry out and scream till her throat felt raw and sore.

"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, _tell the truth!_ "

The never-ending questioning though forced her to listen and she did her best to deny everything. It wasn't even a lie when she told Bellatrix she had never been in her vaults. How in Merlin's name should they have managed to break into Gringotts? A whole different matter was the sword.

Crucio after Crucio hit her square in the chest and she remembered Neville telling her about his parents who had been tortured by Bellatrix and lived in St. Mungos due to the mind damage the dark witch had caused. Hermione did not want that to happen to her. She could bear death but not the thought of being trapped in her own mind. She had to do something, something to keep her sane so she started what she could do best. Use her brain.

The all-consuming pain made it harder than ever, but she did her best to cling to her logical part. So, when Bellatrix started screaming at her again she started to analyse the questions as good as possible. Why was she so afraid that they had been in her vault? Afraid enough to not call Voldemort the second Harry was captured?

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"

Without waiting for an answer Bellatrix did exactly that. Pain exploded in Hermione's arm like fireworks but unlike the Cruciatus Curse the pain was concentrated on one spot. Somehow it seemed more palpable and oddly enough it was easier to bear as the lava-like spasms that flowered through her body with each Crucio.

"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed but was using everything in her to sound convincing as she added. "We've never been inside your vault...it isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!" As she looked up to see if her words showed any affect she was confronted with Draco's grey eyes once again. For a second he looked so utterly shocked that it was nearly funny to watch. _He must have seen through your lie_ , Hermione thought but oddly enough this insight didn't make her tremble with fear. He had kept silent before, he would keep the knowledge for himself once again.

"A copy?" Bellatrix screeched. "Oh, a likely story!" As expected the witch wasn't convinced.

"But we can find out easily," Lucius Malfoy piped up. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

This time she couldn't help but panic. The goblin would recognize the sword as what it was, but Hermione knew that there was nothing she could do. She noticed the way Draco looked at her, before he finally turned around to do as he was told and for the blink of a moment Hermione thought she saw something like compassion and sadness there.

He was barely out of the door as the next curse hit her, this time a combination of the Cruciatus and a Slicing Curse. The impact of both hit her with enough power to throw her to the ground, where she screamed and convulsed in agony.

 _She would die here_ , Hermione realised, killed by the hand of a mad woman, left bleeding to death on the fine marble floor.

Oddly enough the last thing she saw in front of her inner eye, before everything went black, was Adrian and Draco. Both boys were looking at her with the same despair she felt for herself.

Waking up in Shell Cottage was like waking up from a nightmare, only to realise that it hadn't been a dream. Dobby had saved them and lost his life in doing so. Appearing at his funeral, even though her body was protesting to move, was the least thing she could do.

Sooner than Hermione knew was good for health they were forced to move on. Bellatrix’s unreasonable fear that they had been in her Gringotts vault didn't let her go. In the end she was convinced that the mad witch had to be hiding something for Voldemort himself.

Harry and Ron agreed with her that it had to be something of value. Maybe even a Horcrux.

By all means, her plan wasn't the best, but they had neither the time nor better possibilities to think of something else, so they stuck to it. Being forced into the body of Bellatrix LeStrange felt horrible but Hermione was intelligent enough to see the benefits of it. In the end it had been worth every minute of it. They actually managed to break into -and out – of Gringotts. Hermione could think of far less fearsome ways out as on the back of a nearly blind dragon, but that didn't matter. They got the Horcrux and none of them was hurt.

Going back to Hogwarts left Hermione with mixed feelings. She connected the castle with happy memories and the safety of her childhood. Now it would be turned into the setting of the one war that would decide over the destiny of the wizard world. She shuddered at the mere thought of it but she knew she had to be strong, if not for herself than for Harry's sake. The burden he was laden with since his birth was not easy to handle, but he had to realise that he wasn't alone.

"I think Ron's right. We don't even know what we're looking for, we need them," she tried to convince her best friend. "You don't have to do everything alone, Harry." That finally got a sigh out of him and he nodded before he turned around to inform the others of the Ravenclaw object they were looking for. Not that they had any idea what it could be. As the conversation turned to the diadem Hermione finally felt something like hope. It was the best they had come up with so far, so it was only logical that Harry went with Luna to look at Ravenclaw`s portrait.

That left Ron and her to find a way to make themselves useful. To say that she was surprised when Ron came up with a plan -a brilliant one nonetheless -would be an understatement. But it was nothing compared to her surprise when it actually worked in the end.

"You did it, Hermione. I'm so proud of you. We are rid of another Horcrux!" Hermione felt the same excitement as Ron. She destroyed a piece of Voldemort’s soul and Harry was one step nearer to defeating Voldemort once for all.

"Looks clear," Ron mumbled and a moment later they slipped onto the floor to return to the others. They had barley put back a quarter of their way as Ron was hit with a stunner and sunk to the floor even before he was able to mutter a spell. The _Death Eater_ didn't hesitate to attack her but she wouldn't be an easy target.

At first the duel reminded her of the one she had had with Rodolphus LeStrange but a few minutes into it she realised that this one was not even half as quick as the other wizard. So, it did not take her long to finally hit him with an ice charm.

The feeling of a deja vu hit her again only mere seconds later when another _Death Eater_ rounded the corner only to sink screaming to his knees. The man was convulsing much like victims of the Cruciatus Curse only that suddenly the screams stopped, and he sunk dead to the side.

"Avada Kedavra!"

With widened eyes she watched the _Death Eater_ , the one she had turned into an ice statue, covert in green light before he joined his comrade on the ground. Hectically she turned around to look at the spot she expected to find the spell caster, but nobody was there.

There was a slight movement in the air and she realized that he or she was hiding under a Disillusionment charm.

"Who...who are you?" Hermione hated herself for sounding so frightened and once again she asked herself why she didn't raise her wand. On the other hand, whoever the mysterious person was, he could have easily stunned or killed her if he had wanted to. A moment later she swallowed in shock. Did he just sniff her? Something told her that she was undoubtedly dealing with a man. Hesitant but willing to confirm her suspicions she raised her hand to touch what she expected to be the back of a head. The hair was short and rather fine and confirmed her theory.

"Who are you?"

"Someone who likes your smell." Warm breath tickled her ear and she couldn't help but shudder at hearing his confession. "They wanted to kill you, we...I couldn't let that happen...wildflower."

We? Did he say we? Hermione did not recognise the voice, but something in the way he was talking had her taken aback.

For a long moment she just stared at the spot he was standing in front of her, but it was him who finally broke the silence.

"Be careful!" She heard him mutter a spell and the next moment Ron, still on the ground beside her, started to groan and wake up from his unconsciousness.

"I'll watch over you, wildflower." The man told her and again she could feel a shudder running down her spine. Hermione was not sure what she had expected but it wasn't this and she was not exactly comfortable with it either. Uneasily she looked around, but he had stepped back and with the Disillusionment charm still working she couldn't see him, though she did not doubt that he was still around.

"Mione?" Ron's slightly groggy voice forced her to concentrate on other things and with a last glance around she helped her friend up to his feet who noticed the two dead _Death Eaters_ and fired a line of questions in her direction. Like with the Pucey incident before she kept silent over the help she received. Instead she came up with a likely realistic story.

Why was she lying?

"Where the hell have you been?" A few minutes later Harry's stressed voice ripped her out of her thoughts and soon enough she had other worries than the mysterious man. That was until Crabbe tried to kill her and aimed the death curse in her direction. Whoever that man was, rescued her the second time that day as he pulled her out of the way. So, he was still there, well he told her he would watch over her.

"Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" Malfoy yelled again in Crabbe's direction, but the other boy didn't listen to him and aimed curse after curse in their direction. Malfoy did too, but other than his former cronies he only used simple hexes and somehow Hermione had the impression he failed to hit them deliberately.

Then the Friendfyre broke loose and they barely made it out alive. The only benefit from nearly being roasted to death was that Friendfyre was one of the few things which could destroy a Horcrux. And with the diadem down there was only one Horcrux left: Nagini.

Getting into the Shrieking Shack was harder than any of them expected with the castle being the battlefield it was. Wherever they went Death Eaters, Order members, DA members and any sort of magical creature were fighting with and against each other.

The invisible clock was a great help but still, they were stopped every few minutes by all sorts of trouble, not to forget the heavy weight of Fred's death that reminded them just how dangerous their situation was. Somewhere in the trouble, Hermione was sure of it, she lost her invisible man but had no time wondering about it. In fact, it seemed they had no time at all. The next hour felt like day and Hermione still had trouble to bear it all.

Lavender attacked by Fenrir.

Snape killed by Nagini.

Voldemort trying to convince Harry to capitulate.

Finding Tonks’ and Remus’ pale and dead bodies on the floor of the Great Hall.

All the crying and exhausted looking people around her and finally...hearing Voldemort announce her worst fear. Harry Potter was dead! The brother she never had. Hermione felt as if someone had ripped a part out of herself. But seeing his body being abused, even in death, got her blood boiling and she wanted nothing more than to rip that foul smile out of Voldemort’s snake like face.

Pride filled her when she heard Neville telling Voldemort that hell had to freeze over before he would join him and agony filled her when she saw the Dark Lord putting the Sorting Hat on her friends head only to see it burst to flames a moment later.

And then.... the biggest shock of all. Harry, as he jumped back to his feet. And then hell broke loose...literally.

Before she knew what happened she was in the middle of a fight. As one of the Golden Trio she was not surprised that more than one of Voldemort’s followers wanted to bring her down personally. But what really shocked her, more than Adrian Pucey killing Rabastan LeStrange and the look of despair and compassion in Draco Malfoy’s eyes while she was tortured, was when her mysterious saviour appeared by her side. Only that he wasn't disillusioned this time.

The curse of the _Death Eater_ nearly hit home as she stared shocked at none other than Barty Crouch Jr. who greeted her with one of his maniac grins. "Hello my wildflower!" Hermione nearly choked on her next curse as he stepped in front of her to protect her with his own body. Her only advantage was that the _Death Eaters_ in front of her seemed to be astonished too about her unexpected knight in shining armour.

The right term, Hermione realised a few minutes later, would be _knights._ Utterly confused but in no position to slow down in her attempt to fight, she had to accept her two other knights that came to her rescue.

None other than Adrian Pucey and Draco Malfoy joined the ring of her protectors, much to the distress of the older Malfoy’s as it seemed, who were visibly scared for their son's life.

 _Or maybe just shocked that their son was willing to risk his life for the Mudblood queen_.

Hermione felt as if she had been sent to another reality. She Mudblood extraordinary, insufferable-know-it-all and Princess of Gryffindor was protected by three Death Eaters. Even though two of them had already saved her life or, in Draco's case, at least tried to do so she still had trouble believing it.

Hermione had no idea how much later it was when finally, the only duelling wizards where Voldemort and Harry. She wanted...well she wasn't sure what she wanted. She knew that she couldn't interfere. But at least she wanted to support him. Giving him the strength, he needed to do what had been expected of him his whole life, but her three new found saviours seemed to think different.

"No, it's not safe!" Adrian shook his head.

"If Harry doesn't defeat him nobody is safe!"

"Then we better hope that wonder boy will finally succeed in something." She glared at Draco before she tried to march over to the others, but once again she was held back.

"We can't let that happen...no... You must wait till it's safe, wildflower. We won't risk your life." Hermione wasn't sure if he was speaking about the three of them or if he was merely speaking about himself. Somehow, she had the pressing suspicion that it was the latter. Nonetheless the other two nodded in agreement and before she had another chance to break free and rush towards her friends the three men positioned themselves around her. The message was clear.

"Who in Merlin's name do you think you are? Let me through!" She snapped angry. How dare they! "

Don't fret, Hermione," Adrian tried to sooth her. "We only want you to be safe," he assured her though Hermione didn't miss the wary glance he shot at the others, especially Barty Jr. But both of them had fought as determined at her side as Adrian himself which seemed to ease him in the end.

"Why?" Hermione knew it was the most unfitting time for such a question, as the destiny of the Wizard World was about to be decided just a few feet away from her, but she couldn't help herself. All three of them blinked at her as if she had asked the stupidest of questions.

"Really Granger," Malfoy finally mocked her and Hermione felt oddly comforted by the familiar tone. "For someone who is supposed to be the brightest witch of her age you are really dense sometimes."

"Is that supposed to be an answer?"

None of them answered just smiled knowingly at her. Draco with a hint of haughtiness, Barty with the clear sign of insanity and Adrian, well he just smiled brightly at her.

Hermione barely registered as everyone around her suddenly started to shout and squeal with joy. She realized that it must mean that Harry won. Voldemort was dead. But all she could think about while she looked from one Slytherin to the other was that she was in deep trouble, as the look in their eyes reminded her of believers who looked at something they thought to be divine.

_Oh yes Hermione, you are in trouble, really deep trouble._

Sighing she tried to find something positive in it. There could be worse things than being a goddess to snakes now, couldn't it?

 

***End???***


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